And Nights By The Fire
by lazrocks
Summary: Winter days for Norway usually mean spending the day bundled up inside, with a book and cup of coffee as his only company. But not when Denmark is around... DenNor fluff, one-shot.


_Author's Note: This is a de-anon for a one-shot I wrote for the kink meme. Don't worry though, it's completely fluffy goodness! Enjoy!_

The cold morning air seeped in through the room, awaiting Norway as soon as he broke out of his cozy cocoon of blankets. He yawned and stretched, sitting up and immediately shivering. As he was getting up the will to crawl out of bed, he noticed the coffee cup on the table, served black and steaming hot, just the way he liked it. Norway picked up the cup and took a long drink, feeling much better as the warmth and energy spread throughout his being, his senses finally clear.

Underneath the cup was a hand-written note, written in a kind of chicken scratch that took years to figure out how to decipher.

_Hey Norge!_

_ I got up early to shovel the walkway, but I really didn't want to wake you up too! Come on out when you read this - I have a surprise for you!_

_ -Denmark 3_

Only the idiot Dane would put a heart beside his name and still expect to be taken seriously. Oh well, at least Norway got some extra sleep. Once his coffee cup was drained, he finally got out of bed, quickly changing into his winter coat and snow boots and heading out the door. Denmark was right there where he said he would be, almost done clearing the driveway of the white powder all around him. "You didn't have to do this all by yourself, you know."

Denmark smiled at the familiar voice, making his way back to the front door and leaning the shovel against the wall, just so it could clatter to the ground again. The Dane didn't seem to notice, though, smiling at Norway with that carefree smile he always wore. "I wanted to!" He quickly explained. "You don't get much time off, and I thought it was the least I could do, after, you know…" He winked, and Norway rolled his eyes in return.

"I thought we made it very clear not to talk about our nightly activities in public."

"We're in your front yard!"

"Same difference!" Norway hissed. "I'm sure Sweden or Iceland don't want to make a surprise visit and hear us talking about that… Stuff."

"Aww, Nor!" Denmark pulled the shorter nation into a hug. "Are you embarrassed?" He chuckled. "There's no need to be! It's not like anyone doesn't know..."

"Shut up, Dane!" Norway huffed and pushed himself out of Denmark's embrace.

Denmark just laughed, "How about I remind you about the time when you were wearing that-"

His words were cut short when a tightly packed ball of snow hit him in the chest. Norway gave him a bit of a smug look, "That's what you get, idiot."

Denmark just gave a bit of a laugh, quickly constructing his own snowball and throwing it in Norway's direction. It hit its target exactly where it was supposed to, earning a stunned look from the younger nation. "…Did you really just do that?"

Denmark nodded, a smug grin on his face.

"…It's on, Dane." Norway quickly reached down to make more ammunition, and Denmark did the same. He felt one hit him in the back before he jumped up to rapid-fire in Norway's direction. He hit the ground just as another one came in his direction, and rolled away for cover, making snowballs like a madman while constantly looking over his shoulder.

Meanwhile, Norway strutted almost cockily, carrying around an armful of the amusing "weapons" in the sort of "war" they were having. It was obvious, even now, how different the two nations were- while Denmark focused on strength, Norway, focused on strategy, which is why-

"Nor?" The Dane slowly came out of his hiding place, a large snowball in each hand. His eyes searched frantically for the other man, but he didn't notice until it was too late. Denmark had a split-second to react, watching an icy ball come his way before his quickly ducked and it narrowly whizzed over his head. He winced, realizing that if he hadn't reacted, the icy snowball would've hit a very sensitive spot he was pretty fond of.

"Come on, Dane," the Norwegian taunted, circling around his crouched like a vulture. "Who's the 'King of the North' now?" In the back of his mind, Norway knew he could be doing a bit too much teasing, but Denmark could take it. Norway had said _far _worse things to him over the years. The whole situation- being roped into a snowball fight with the familiar Dane- reminded him of his younger days as a Viking, where he could always find time for things like this. He almost forgot how fun it was- and how good Denmark could be at it.

Just then, Denmark sprang to his feet, pelting Norway with a flurry of snowballs. Norway nearly dropped his ammunition, struggling to use one arm to shield his face. He blinked, quickly grabbing for one of his own spheres and throwing it straight for the Dane's head. The ball flew past his ear- _damn it- _but it did distract him enough that he left his chest wide open. In that split second, Norway used all his strength to hurl the snowball at his target. It made contact with a thud, eliciting an "Oof!" from Denmark before he fell backwards into the powder.

Norway braced himself for another attack. One second… Two seconds… Three seconds… Why wasn't the Dane moving? He cautiously approached the man, his eyes closed, head lolled to the side, wild blonde hair sprinkled with snow. "…Den?" He slowly got down onto his knees next to the figure. "…Denmark?" All of the sudden, he felt a strong hand pull at his shirt collar, as his lips collided clumsily with the man's below. The kiss was sudden, assertive, and passionate, just like the man who was giving it. Denmark's lips were always surprisingly soft, his mouth skilled when it came to things like… This.

"Idiot!" Norway quickly pulled away from the kiss, not knowing whether to be irritated, angry, relieved, or a strange combination of all three. He slapped Denmark across the face, then quickly dove in for another kiss. "Don't you ever try to play a trick like that on me again, understand me? And to think, I was even worried about you…" He sighed and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Norge," But the look on his face said he wasn't all that sorry. He kissed the Norwegian on the cheek. "How about I make it up to you?"

"And how do you expect to do that?"

Denmark quickly stood, offering Norway his hand. He reluctantly took it, and together they made their way back into the house. He sat Norway down in front of the fireplace, and made his way into the kitchen, coming back with two mugs in his hands. He set them down so he could gingerly wrap a blanket around the little Norwegian's shivering frame, then handed him a mug.

Norway made a face, "What is this?"

"Hot chocolate," Denmark took his own mug and sat next to Nor, taking his hand.

"You know I would've preferred coffee."

"Can't you just let me be romantic for once?" Norway rolled his eyes, slowly sipping the sweet liquid and resting his head on Denmark's shoulder.

"I suppose, just this once…"

"Good Nornor," The Dane teased, kissing the Norwegian on the cheek and snuggling up to him.

For a while, the room was silent. It wasn't an awkward silence, but a different kind of silence; one that came from contentment, and from being with exactly who you wanted to be with. The only sound in the room came from the crackling of the fire that made the whole room cozy and warm, and smell like an old, happy memory; like when they were sitting by the bonfire together so long ago, in the old days, nothing more than young lovers without a care in the world.

"Nor?" Even when the Dane tried to be quiet, his booming voice filled the room when he spoke.

"Yes?"

"…I love you."

"I love you too, Denmark…" His voice was quiet and unsure, like it always got when he said things like that. He quietly wrapped his arms around Denmark's waist, burying his face in the man's shoulder.

"You know what?" Norway looked up into those deep blue eyes. "Maybe next time, I'll let you win."

That earned Denmark a slap upside the head. "Stupid Dane," the Norwegian muttered once again before letting his head rest on the larger man's shoulder, tired from the game outside and from just how exhausting loving someone like Denmark could be.


End file.
